


Hannibal: Little Lost Lamb.

by moon_goddess_118



Series: In Love With a Monster [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Hannibal, Possessive Sex, Protective Hannibal, Psychological Trauma, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Assault, Sexual Slavery, Sexual Tension, Slow Romance, Slow build Hannibal Lecter/Clarice Starling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 00:58:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6449107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_goddess_118/pseuds/moon_goddess_118
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being one of fifteen top students of the F.B.I academy is hard but being the protege and assistant to Will Graham is even harder, yet Clarice Starling takes great pride and admiration in her task. A young woman of twenty, Clarice is driven by curiosity and an very active imagination, as well as a childlike naivety despite her childhood trauma.<br/>So when Jack Crawford brought in Will to help him to get into the minds of the killers, Will brought Clarice with him, revealing that she is the only person who can ground him into reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hannibal: Little Lost Lamb.

**Author's Note:**

> This Clarice is the same as my version of her in 'Hannibal: The Wolf and The Lamb.   
> She gives a lot, but not everything. Most important to remember is this: it's a mistake to assume Clarice is weak, but it's also a mistake to assume she is strong. She is both. The message is: don't push her beyond her limits, because although it might appear that she has none, she does draw the line at some point. Everyone should avoid taking advantage of her good nature and willingness to make sacrifices. She sees her willingness to forgive and understand as a strength, and others should too.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FBI Special Investigator Will Graham, who is haunted by his ability to empathize with serial killers and mentally re-create their crimes with vivid detail, is drawn into the investigation of a series of missing college girls by Special Agent Jack Crawford, who has special interest in Will's ability. Will makes a request that his protege, who is also his anchor and an FBI Trainee, assists him on this case. Enter Clarice Starling, a young woman who also can empathize with serial killers, as well as empathize with the victims themselves.  
> Jack, by recommendation of Dr. Alana Bloom, enlists the help of noted psychiatrist Dr. Hannibal Lecter, who takes a keen interest in the case and particularly in Will, in whom he senses a like mind, and Clarice, who's power of empathizing is barely blossoming open, much like an Lotus flower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarice's accent in the same as Rogue from the X-Men the Animated Series and Rogue from X-Men Evolution.  
> Best way to describe Clarice since she's a small town girl from Barboursville, Cabell County, West Virginia:  
> http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lexi-herrick/13-reasons-to-date-a-girl-from-a-small-town_b_7789908.html

 

**Chapter One: Apéritif**

"I shoot Mr. Marlow twice, severing jugulars and carotids with near-surgical precision. He will die watching me take what is his away from him. This is my design." Will Graham told his class as he paced behind his desk and lecture stand. "I shoot Mrs. Marlow expertly through the neck. This is not a fatal wound. The bullet misses every artery. She is paralyzed before it leaves her body. Which doesn’t mean she can’t feel pain. It just means she can’t do anything about it. This is my design."

Will noticed a stocky, tall African American man walking into his classroom, he was wary that the man would interrupt his lecture but he didn't, taking to cross his arms over his chest and listened to Will give his lecture. 

"And this is when it gets truly horrifying for Mrs. Marlow." He flipped the picture to a bloody Mrs. Marlow and addressed the class. "Everyone has thought about killing someone, one way or another, be it your own hand or the hand of God. Now think about killing Mrs. Marlow. Why did she deserve this?" Will continued as he started to pack things up and the class got ready to leave. "Tell me your design. Tell me who you are."

"Mr. Graham. Special Agent Jack Crawford." The man said, holding his hand out for Will to shake. "I head the Behavioral Science Unit."

Will didn't look at him as he addressed him, taking his hand in his. "We’ve met."

Jack said, chuckling. "Yes. We had a disagreement when we opened up the museum."

"I disagreed with what you named it." Will corrected him.

"The, uh, Evil Minds Research Museum." Jack said, rubbing his chin.

Will stated. "It’s a little hammy, Jack."

Jack looked at Will. "I see you’ve hitched your horse to a teaching post, and I also understand it’s difficult for you to be social."

"Well, I’m just talking at them." Will said, sighing. "I’m not listening to them. It’s not social."

Jack asked. "I see. May I? Where do you fall on the spectrum?"

Will stated. "My horse is hitched to a post that is closer to Asperger’s and autistics than narcissists and sociopaths."

"But you can empathize with narcissists – and sociopaths." Jack stated.

"I can empathize with anybody." Will corrected him. "It’s less to do with a personality disorder than an active imagination."

Jack asked, sheepishly. "Um can I borrow your imagination?"

Will looked at him, suspiciously. "It will depend on what you need my imagination for?"

"For a case." Jack answered.

 

**The Federal Bureau of Investigation**

**Quantico, Virginia**

 "Eight girls abducted from eight different Minnesota campuses, all in the last eight months." Jack told Will.

"I thought there were seven." Will stated, looking at Jack as he followed him back to his desk.

"There were." Jack said.

Will asked. "When did you tag the eighth?"

Jack said, "About three minutes before I walked into your lecture hall."

"You’re calling them abductions because you don’t have any bodies?" Will asked, as he sat down.

Jack shook his his head. "No bodies, no parts of bodies, nothing that comes out of bodies. Nothing."

Will looked back at the board. "Then those girls weren’t taken from where you think they were taken."

Jack asked. "Then where were they taken from?"

Will shrugged his shoulders. "I don’t know. Someplace else."

"All of them abducted on a Friday so they wouldn’t have to be reported missing until Monday." Jack said. "Now, however he’s covering his tracks, he needs a weekend to do it."

Will asked. "Number eight?"

Jack said, reading the missing girl's file. "Elise Nichols. St. Cloud State on the Mississippi. Disappeared on Friday. Was supposed to house sit for her parents over the weekend, feed the cat. She never made it home."

Will stated, standing up and going back to the board. "Yeah, one through seven are dead, don’t you think? He’s not keeping them around. He got himself a new one."

Jack said, "So we focus on Elise Nichols."

"They’re all very, um Mall of America. That’s a lot of wind-chafed skin." Will commented, as he started to noticed the similarities between the girls. 

Jack agreeing. "Same hair color, same eye color. Roughly the same age. Same height, same weight. So what is it about all of these girls?"

"It’s not about all of these girls. It’s just about one of them." Will corrected, "He’s like Willy Wonka. Every girl he takes is a candy bar, and hidden in amongst all of those candy bars is the one true intended victim, which, if we follow through on our metaphor, is your golden ticket."

Jack said as he looked at the board. "So, is he warming up for his golden ticket, or just reliving whatever it is he did to her?"

Will shaking his head, "The golden ticket wouldn’t be the first taken, and she wouldn’t be the last. He would, um, hide how special she was. I mean, I would. Wouldn’t you?"

Jack stated, causing the mentor and protege to look at him. "I want you to get closer to this."

Will was quick to turn him down. "No. You have Heimlich at Harvard and Bloom at Georgetown. They do the same thing I do."

"That’s not exactly true, is it?" Jack corrected him, "You have a very specific way of thinking about things."

"Has there been a lot of discussion about the, uh, specific way – I think?" Will asked.

"You make jumps you can’t explain, Will."

"No, no. The evidence explains."

"Then help me find some evidences." Jack requested him.

"That may require me to be sociable." Will said. He remembered a certain young woman who would demand that she would be brought into this case as his assistant and of course being a student. "I actually have a small request, Agent Crawford. "

Jack arched a brow at him. "A request? So soon? What is it?"

Will took out a folder and handed it to Jack. "I would like her to join me on this case."

"Clarice Starling?" Jack read the name on the file, he looked up at Will with an raised brow. "What is she to you?"

"My protege." Will said. "She can empathize with serial killers but we both learned that she can empathize with the victims themselves."

Jack looked up at him with a puzzled expression on his face. "How did you two figure that out?"

Will sighed as he recalled the incident. "Clarice was walking home when she stumbled upon the body of a dead child. She had told me that she had entered in a trance like state and entered the mind of the child, and she saw everything through the child's eyes and felt everything that the child had felt." He paused before he continued. "When she snapped to, Clarice called me and told what happened. She was pretty shaken up about it."

"Was the child's death murder or accident?" Jack asked.

"Accident." Will answered him. "He had fallen off a tree and died instantly. We both had to tell the parents, though Clarice was till shaken up by it."

Jack slowly nodded his head, thinking. "Very well, I'm going to allow her to assist you on this case. But if you are unable to get into this killer's mind, I'll be force to use her empathy ability as well."

Will nodded his after a brief silent pause, agreeing silently to Jack's request. He knew this was the only way for Clarice to gain better control of her empathy and use it to help her on her future cases as a FBI Agent. Though Will really didn't want Clarice to be thrown into a case when it involves girls around her age. 

Jack said. "Call her and tell her to report to the Nichols in a few hours." Jack turned and walked away, leaving Will to stare after him.

Will sighed as he pulled out his cell phone and pulled out his contracts. He tapped on Clarice's profile and her picture came up, Will paused to stare at her picture.

Clarice has beautiful light brown hair with honey blond highlights, all natural color, nothing harmful ever touched her hair, nor dye. Her thick locks are natural wavy and long, hanging to her breasts; her bangs are the same length as the rest of her hair. And she's always wearing a tan cowgirl hat on top her hair, her lucky hat as she had told him countless of times before. 

Her body is slender yet still possesses those lovely feminine curves, with long, tapering legs and a long waist. With her smooth, flawless porcelain skin, Clarice can easily pass as swimsuit model.

She has a exquisite, delicate, oval-shaped face. Her eyes are disturbing, with an exotic slant. Such vibrant amber eyes in that fair face, a golden-red color, like the stone itself. Her lips are soft and full, which makes Will think of carnal thoughts, and her nose straight and slender. A thick fringe of sooty lashes framed those extraordinary eyes, while dark brows arched gently above them.

Will clicked the call image and put the phone against his ear, listening to the ringing on the other end, waiting for her to answer the phone.

 _"Hey, Will,"_ answered a soft feminine lilting honey magnolia accent, a southern voice, breathless. _"What do you need of me?"_

"Nothing," Will said. "But you've been giving permission in helping me with a case I'm on with the FBI, Clarice."

Clarice's surprisement sounded in her voice. _"Really? How did you manage that?"_

"Agent Crawford wanted me on the case and I wanted you on the case as well." Will told her. "So I'm expecting you to be at the Nichols resident within the hour."

 _"I'll be there as soon as I head home and changed out of my running clothes, Will."_ Clarice said.

Will told her as he walked out of the classroom. "And make sure you call me Professor Graham."

Clarice's throaty chuckle played havoc on his senses. _"Don't worry, Professor, I know how to behave professional in public."_ Will could listen to her voice all day, and he would purposely start a conversation with her or call her just to hear that beautiful accent.

With that, she hanged up, leaving Will to his thoughts at her playful words. He shook his head. She may flirt with him but she never acted upon her words, almost like he shouldn't be taking her seriously in her flirting. That it could just be her southern charms. 

Will headed towards his car, preparing his heart and mind for the next few hours.

 

**Baltimore, Maryland.**

Clarice Starling opened the door to her three-room apartment, and sighed as she toed off her running tennis. Her doberman pincer, Roscoe, ran passed her and headed towards the bedroom. Clarice sighed as she took off her exercising jacket and tossed it on the couch as she stepped into the bathroom and walked towards the Clawfoot Tub, she turned on the faucet, causing the water to come running out of the faucet.

Clarice held her hand under the water, testing the temperature as Roscoe walked into the bathroom, carrying clean clothes for her to wear. She patted his head as she took the clothes from him. He barked, wagging his tail before he turned and walked out of the bathroom, headed back towards the bedroom. Clarice looked at the clothes that he had brought to her and nodded her head in approval. 

For a dog, Roscoe had excellent taste in clothing, which she uses to help her on choosing clothes for dates or going out with her friends. Though he may be a good pet and companion for Clarice, Roscoe is an retired K-9 and an ex-Fighting dog, so he's aggressive towards strangers, as well to her ex-boyfriends. Especially to her ex-boyfriends. Richard Starling, her father, had rescued Roscoe when Clarice was ten-years-old and had kept him locked up in the cellar. But when Clarice almost killed by a cruel pack of bikers, Roscoe busted free from his prison and rushed to her rescue. Since than, Clarice and Roscoe became inseparable, and he even understands Spanish, which she uses to give him commands. 

Roscoe is a very intelligent dog, being able to open and close doors and turning electronics on and off, like TV and the such. He even knows how to work the phone. Clarice spent months training him to do such things, finding him to be the perfect roommate despite being a dog.

Clarice removed her hand from the water and placed the stopper in the drain, allowing the water to start filling up it. She grabbed a jar filled with smelling salts, and grabbed the shampoo, conditioner and soap bar from the basket and placed it on the bathtub tray. Clarice sat on the edge of the tub as she waited for the water level to reach the perfect height.

Her thoughts turned to the case that Will had yet to tell her about but she knew that he would realize that she didn't have information on it. She heard her rose pink iPhone 6 chimed, alerting her that she got a text, and grabbed the iPhone from the inside of her sports bra and clicked on the screen. Clarice saw Will's name and clicked in it, she read the text that he had sent to her and smiled as her feeling had came true. He did realize that Clarice didn't have information on the case and sent her a link to look into it.

Clarice tapped on it and placed the iPhone down, taking off her clothes as she waited for it to download onto her iPhone. She smiled as she thought about her teacher and mentor, Clarice had always thought that Will Graham, her teacher and mentor, is very handsome man of thirty-four years of age, with a lean and slightly muscular build, he stood about five feet and eleven inches. He had a sharp jawline, covered in a light brown stubble. His hair was shaggy, a curly fringe almost meeting his vibrant grayish blue eyes, a color that Clarice could find herself lost in them.

Clarice has such a huge crush on her Professor. No, not crush. An attraction towards Will Graham and she didn't find his empathy to be off-putting, instead she found it to be pulse since Clarice herself has the same talent as he does, which made them compatible if not for their different personalities. She knows that he is attracted to her due to her looks and her small-town-girl personality. And Clarice prides herself being a small town girl in a big city, she considers herself to be more friendly, courteous, caring, and enjoys the smaller things in life than city girls.

Clarice pulled herself out of her thoughts and stood up, placing her iPhone in it's docking system and clicked her Latin folder, and the voice of Ricky Martin blurred through the speakers. She turned off the faucet and stepped into the tub, sinking into the warm water. It stopped just above her breasts, and Clarice dangled her arms over the edge as she rested her head on the pillow that she has attached to the Clawfoot Tub, closing her eyes as she inhaled the scent of magnolia, clementine, gardenia, sandalwood and honey from the water. Her eyes opened and raised her head when she heard footsteps walking towards the open door of the bathroom. She sat up and waited for her two roommates to appear in the doorway as they usually do. 

Gabriel González and Rebecca Jonah didn't stop in front of the bathroom as she had thought they would, they instead walked into the bathroom, with Roscoe following them inside. Gabriel sat on the counter and Rebecca sat on the laundry basket, and Roscoe came over and laid at the foot of the tub. Clarice knew Gabriel and Rebecca since elementary, junior and high school, and the three of them were best of friends and the perfect roommates for each other, but all three of them went to college courses, or academy in Clarice's case, of their wish. Gabriel had entered a dance college to fulfill his dream of becoming a professional Latin dancer. Rebecca entered a college of the arts, to continue on her goal to become a famous artist of sculpture. And Clarice of course entered the F.B.I Academy in order to become an Agent of the Behavioral Science Unit.

Rebecca is also engaged to Clarice's ex-boyfriend but lucky, Clarice and Ethan's break-up was clean since both of them wanted to break up. Clarice was happy for Rebecca and Ethan. Gabriel is in a long-time relationship with a psychiatrist named Ian Sinclair, an Scottish-British man, and the pair are in a very loving and strong relationship, despite the fact that Gabriel is dating a much older man, his age is around his forties. 

Clarice leaned her head back and closed her eyes. "What is it?"

Rebecca leaned over and patted Roscoe on his back. "You won't believe who we saw hanging around outside the apartment building, Clara."

Clarice raised her head back up, her eyes open once again, and frowned at them. "Who?"

"Your psycho ex-boyfriend, David." Gabriel answered.

"I thought with Roscoe biting him hard enough to draw blood that he would get the hint that we're through forever!" Clarice commented as she waved Gabriel towards the conditioner and shampoo bottles, her way of telling him to wash her hair for her.

Gabriel stood up and walked to stand behind Clarice, who ducked under the water and resurfaced, before he spoke once again. "Obviously not, Clara. That boy won't get the hint unless you start dating someone who is both sophisticated and older."

Rebecca smiled at Gabriel as he began to lathe Clarice's hair with the shampoo that smells just like her smelling salts. "You mean like Ian?"

"Yes, just like Ian." Gabriel told her, smiling as Clarice ducked back under the water. "There's nothing wrong with a sophisticated, older and handsome man with impeccable manners and charms."

"But where am I going to find a man like Ian?" Clarice asked as Gabriel lathed the conditioner in her hair. "You were damn lucky to find Ian, Gabe!"

Gabriel tapped his chin before his eyes lite up as he recalled someone. "I know the perfect someone!"

Clarice ducked under the water once again and resurfaced so she could ask him. "Do you mean you yourself know this person or you know someone who knows this person?"

"I actually met this person, so thank-you very much!" Gabriel retorted, shrugged. "Anyways, my mother has been seeing this psychiatrist by the name of Hannibal Lecter...."

Clarice interrupted him. "Why has your mother been going to a psychiatrist?"

Gabriel shrugged his shoulder as he smirked. "I think having a homosexual for a son pushed her over the edge."

Rebecca laughed. "Your mother was always bat shit crazy, Gabe, I don't think she needed that as a reason to finally go to see a psychiatrist."

"True, so true." Gabriel agreed, "anyways, according to her, Doctor Lecter fits the description of being like my Ian perfectly!"

"So not only do I have to make this mystery Doctor fall in love with me," Clarice said to Rebecca, chuckling. "I have to go against his mother, the legendary gold digger."

Gabriel grimaced. "You're right about that, Clara. My mother has made Doctor Lecter her next husband."

Rebecca smiled at Clarice as she lathed up a sponge with the body soap with same scent. "But Clarice, you have the charm and manners of both South and France. He'll fall for you in no time flat."

Clarice thought as she climbed out of the tub and Gabriel handed her a towel.  _Not if he can't handle the baggage that comes with me._

 

Clarice drove towards the Nichols residents (directions given to her by her ever-so-thoughtful Professor Will Graham), with Roscoe sitting in the passenger seat, she recalled all the information that she had read up on the case. It didn't take long for Clarice to note the similar appearance between all the girls, it would take a blind person not to notice that Clarice had told herself as she looked towards Roscoe from the corner of her eye to see him looking out the window, panting.

Clarice parked her  black with white stripes 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle SS in front of the Nichols resident and spotted Jack and Will waiting for her on the porch, she climbed out of the muscle car and Roscoe laid on the seat, resting his head on his paws, settling down to go to sleep. She grabbed her satchel bag and walked over to them.

Jack had his arms crossed as he addressed her. "I read your files, Ms. Starling."

Clarice inwardly grimaced. "I see. So you know about _that_."

"Yes, but that won't be a problem, Ms. Starling." Jack assured her. "As long as you are able to do your job."

"Yes, sir." Clarice said.

Jack turned and walked in, with Will and Clarice following after him, though the young woman was lost in her thoughts. She sighed as she remembered that she had to be truthful to the Agent when she had enrolled in the academy, though she hadn't fully gone into detail about her entire childhood until she was adopted by a French woman when she was thirteen, Clarice could tell that Jack Crawford was wondering about the other missing details of her childhood back home and with her uncle. Not that Clarice is ever plan to go into detail about that incident, she'll tell him about her father but other than that, nope, she's going to keep her mouth shut and not say a damn word about it.

Clarice was born and raised in Barboursville, Cabell County, West Virginia with her father, a police officer. When she was ten years old, her father was shot when responding to a robbery; he died a month after the incident. Clarice was sent to live with her uncle on a Montana sheep and horse farm, from which she briefly ran away in horror when she witnessed the lambs being slaughtered, but not before taking one of them in an failed attempt to rescue it from it's future death. Than she spent most of her childhood in a Lutheran orphanage, her uncle had sent her away after her stunt with the lamb.

But Clarice was adopted at the age of thirteen by an sophisticated French woman, Chantel Delacour, and the older woman had given Clarice a sense of home, not since her father had passed away and her living in the orphanage. But Clarice still have terrible nightmares of the screaming of the lambs, sounding so much like children to her. And there was nothing Chantel or her English butler, James, could do about it. 

Jack's voice dragged Clarice from her morbid thoughts and noticed that he was shaking hands with Elise's parents. "I'm Agent Jack Crawford. This is Will Graham and Trainee Agent Clarice Starling."

Clarice and Will shook Mr. and Mrs. Nichols hands, the young woman smiled at them. Jack and the couple sat at the couple while Clarice and Will reminded standing.

Mr. Nichols spoke up. "She could’ve gone off by herself. She...she was a very interior young woman. She didn’t like living in her dorm. I could see how the pressure of school might have gotten to her. She likes trains. Maybe she just got on a train and–"

Mrs. Nichols interrupted him. "…She looks like the other girls."

"Yes, she fits the profile." Jack told her, Clarice inwardly winced, she figured that she got that from the news report on the TV.

"Could Elise still be alive?" Mr. Nichols asked, hope clearly heard in his voice.

Jack answered. "We simply have no way of knowing."

Will asked, suddenly, causing Clarice to look at him. "How’s the cat?"

Mrs. Nichols frowned at his words. "What?"

"How’s your cat?" Will repeated himself, Clarice looked around for the cat now. "Elise was supposed to feed it. Was the cat weird when you came home? It must’ve been hungry. It didn’t eat all weekend."

Mr. Nichols frowned as he recalled the cat. "I…I didn’t notice."

Jack asked them, before he stood up. "Could you give us a moment, please?"

Will waited for Jack to join him and Clarice before he whispered. "He took her from here. She got on a train, she came home, she fed the cat. He took her."

"The Nichols’ house is a crime scene. I need ERT immediately." Jack said into his phone as Clarice looked up the stairs when she heard the cat meowing. "I want Zeller, Katz, and Jimmy Price. Yes, and a photographer."

Clarice heard Mr. Nichols asked as she walked up the stairs and stopped at the landing, when she saw the car scratching at a door. "Why is it now a crime scene?"

Will asked, noticing that Clarice had already gone up stairs. "Can I see your daughter’s room?"

Mr. Nichols stood up and led Will up the stairs, Clarice step to the side to allow both men to walk passed her. Her eyes locked with Will's and darted towards the cat. Will glanced at the cat and noted it's odd behavior. He inclined his head towards her and Clarice fell into step behind him.

Mr. Nichols told them as he pushed the cat away with his foot, gently. "Polices were there this morning…"

"No–I’ll get that." Will said, stopping Mr. Nichols from opening the door. "Mr. Nichols, please put your hands in your pockets and avoid touching anything." 

Mr. Nichols frowned at him. "But we’ve been in and out of here all day."

Will sighed as he gestured to the cat. "You can hold the cat, if it’s easier."

Clarice opened the door but came to a completely stop, which  caused Will bump into her. Her eyes landing on the dead girl on the bed, looking like she's asleep.  She looked over her shoulder to see Will looking at the body as well and they both looked at Mr. Nichols who stepping in after them.

Mr. Nichols stopping his daughter's body in bed. "Elise–"

Will turned and placed his hand on the man's chest, stopping him from going to his daughter. "I need you to leave the room."

Clarice watched as Mr. Nichols frowned down at Will, confused by his words, until he looked back up at his daughter and gave a choked sob when he realized that she hadn't moved when they had walked into her room, and now realizing that his little girl was dead.

Will looked at Clarice. "Can you take him back downstairs and get Agent Crawford?"

"Yes Professor Graham." Clarice took his arm and led him back downstairs. Jack looked up at Clarice as she stepped down the stairs with an upset Mr. Nichols. "Will wants you upstairs, Agent Crawford."

Jack nodded his head, and told the Nichols to go outside and stay there before he followed Clarice up the stairs. "What's going on?"

Clarice glanced at him over her shoulders. "You won't believe me even if I told you, so I'm going to show you."

When Jack saw that Elise Nichols was in her bed, back in her room, he almost didn't believe what he was seeing but with Will and Clarice there and their still shocked facial expressions staring at the girl's body as well, Jack knew it was true and now he wanted to know why the killer had returned her body to her home and how he did without her parents even knowing about it.

 

Sometime later, Will stood by the window as Clarice stood slightly to the side of him, giving him room and space. He's watched as the paramedics tended to the devastated Mr. and Mrs. Nichols, Clarice had told him that Mr. Nichols had told his wife what had occurred upstairs and the woman had broken into uncontrollable sobs, her husband had to hold her up in order to keep her from falling when she had lost all her strength.

Will could tell that Clarice was sympathizing with the parents and he didn't have the heart to tell her not to, he wanted her to keep that thoughtful and sympathy side, it what made her genuine compare to everyone that Will is somewhat sociable with. So he doesn't really know if the years of this job would take it toll on her and she'll stop being genuinely thoughtful and sympathetic, but for now, Will will keep her as she is and he'll try his hardest to keep her like that before she becomes a full pledge FBI Agent. 

"When you’re ready to talk, you talk. If you don’t feel like it, you don’t talk." Will heard Jack walked up to him and said. "We’ll be downstairs. You let me know when you’re ready for us to come in."

Will turned to face the bed and saw that Clarice was watching Jack leave the room before she walked over and closed the door behind him. He watched her walked back to him, her hips gently swaying with each step she took back to him. She came to stand by his side and cocked her head at him. Will sighed and tapped his forehead against hers, answering her silent concern over him. Clarice smiled and step back from him, he felt her gaze on him as Will took a deep breath and closed his eyes, entering the mind of the killer.

Clarice watched as Will took a deep breath and closed his eyes, she knew that Will had fully entered the mind of the killer, now empathizing with killer. She could touch Will and enter the killer's mind as well but he had told her not to when she had called him and asked if she was going help him on empathizing with the killer or was he going to do it solo. Clarice didn't understand why he didn't want to when he had told her that he was going to teach her how to properly use her empathy talents but now that she's seen the victim better other than looking at a photo, Clarice noticed that she and the victims were close to each other's age than she had originally thought, and it had unnerved her just a little.

Beverly Katz's voice startled both Will and Clarice out of his trance and her thoughts. "You’re Will Graham."

Clarice muttered as she caught her balance. "I hate you so much, Bev."

Will mumbled, looking slightly dazed and uncomfortable. "You’re not supposed to be in here."

Beverly playfully ignored Clarice's comment as she addressed Will. "You wrote the standard monograph on time of death by insect activity."

"Do you even believe in making sounds, Bev?" Clarice asked. "That's the third time you startled me."

"Than maybe you shouldn't be daydreaming." Beverly told her with a smile.

Clarice choice to ignore that by asking. "What are you doing in here anyway?"

"I found antler velvet in two of the wounds." Beverly answered her than asking Will. "You, uh, not real FBI?"

Will answered her while he looked at Clarice and gestured towards her bag, his silent question if she has aspirin. "I’m a special investigator."

Beverly asked as Clarice went to her bag and looked through it, looking for the small bottle of aspirin that she carries for him and herself. "Never been an FBI agent?"

"Um strict – screening procedures." Will told her, with a slightly discomfort about the question.

"Detects instability." Beverly stated, before asking him bluntly. "You unstable?"

Clarice looked at her older friend. "And you said I'm blunt."

Jack walked in with Brian Zeller and Jimmy Price following after him. "Now, you know you’re not supposed to be in here."

"I found antler velvet in two of the wounds, like she was gored." Beverly told him, pointing towards Will as she continued. "I was looking for velvet in the other wounds – but I was interrupted."

Clarice frowned at her. "More like you interrupted us, Bev, not the other way around."

"Hold on, excuse me. Look, deer and elk pin their prey, OK?" Brian interrupted before Beverly could retort, which caused both women to look at him. "They put all their weight into their antlers, try and suffocate a victim. That’s how they would kill, like, a fox or a coyote." 

Clarice commented from her continuous search of the playing-hard-to-get aspirin bottle. "Actually male deer and elk have been known to kill humans just like that. But that usually happens during the mating season."

Brian looked at her. "And how would you know?"

Jimmy interrupted before Clarice could answer him. "Because she's a small town girl from West Virginia where they make hunting deer a artful, so I think she would know or thing or two about male deer killing hunters during mating season."

Clarice wiped her hands together. "And that's that!"

Jack spoke up, drawing everyone's attention to him. "All right, Elise Nichols was strangled, suffocated, her ribs are broken."

Will told him, as he watched Clarice search for that aspirin bottle. "Antler velvet is rich in nutrients. It actually promotes healing. He may have put it in there on purpose."

"You think he was trying to heal her?" Jack asked as Clarice was fighting the temptation of dumping everyone in her bag onto the floor.

"He wanted to undo as much as he could given that he’d already killed her." Will answered him.

Jack stated as he looked back at the body of the bed. "He put her back where he found her."

Will commented. "Whatever he did to the others, he couldn’t do it to her."

"Is this his golden ticket?" Jack asked, Clarice raised her head up and looked at Will with a frown at his Willy Wonka reference. The Professor shake his head at her, silently telling her to wait until later.

"No. This is an apology." Will corrected him, "Does anyone have any aspirin?"

"Ah-Ha! I found it." Clarice shouted with triumph, taking the aspirin out of her bag. "Thought you could hide from me."

Will held out his hand for the bottle, Clarice placed it on his palm. "I think you should organize your Mary Poppins bag."

Clarice looked at her satchel bag. "It's not like Mary Poppins bag at all."

Will rolled his eyes as he popped two pills into his mouth and swallowed. He handed her back the bottle and Clarice took it from him and threw it back into her bag. Jack gestured for them to leave now, and Clarice and Will walked out of the bedroom. She grabbed his arm and pulled him into the empty living room.

Clarice placed her hands on her hips. "Alright, what's with the Willy Wonka reference?"

Will sighed as he told her. "The killer is like Willy Wonka. Every girl he takes is a candy bar, and hidden in amongst all of those candy bars is the one true intended victim is our golden ticket."

"And now I'm going burn Rebecca's Willy Wonka DVD when I get home." Clarice mumbled as she rubbed her temple.

"Don't go burning the DVD because we made a Willy Wonka reference." Will told her.

Clarice shake her head. "Nah, I hate that movie anyway. Now I have a excuse to burn it."

Will groaned as he rubbed his hand down his face. "I don't want to be blamed for you burning that DVD."

"You wouldn't, I promise."

 

**Wolf Trap, Virginia.**

Will was on his way home when he noticed a dog running alongside the road. He slowed the car down and rolled down his window, leaning his head out. "Hello." He parked the car and got out, holding out his hand to the dog, only for it to ran off. "Hey! … Hey! Hey. Hey."

Will got into his car and drove towards a local meat market, and bought some meat. He drove back and found the dog still in the same spot. Will climbed out of the car and open the truck, sitting on the edge of it.

Will started calling the dog, holding some meat in his hand. "Come on. Come on. Hey. Hey, come here. Hey." The dog walked towards him and started to eat from his hand, trusting him not to hurt him now.

Will bribed the dog into the backseat of his car, and closed the door once he had gotten into the car. He got in behind the wheel and headed towards the direction of his house. Once he got home, Will carried the dog onto the front porch and started to bathe him there. The dog wasn't exactly thrilled to be given a bath but he remained perfectly still for him.

"Winston, this is everybody." Will said once the dog was dried, feed and placed in the kettle and the rest of his dogs on the porch with them. "Everybody, this is Winston." One of the dogs barked and Will looked back at them. "Tss! Tss!" Will sat down and took a sip of his coffee, one of his dogs came over and licked his hand. Will stroked his fur as he continued to drink from his coffee, enjoying the quiet night and the company of his dogs. "That’s right." 

 

**Morning.**

Jack walked into the men's room of the academy where Will was washing his hands. "What are you doing in here?"

Will looked at him. "I enjoy the smell of urinal cake."

"Me too. We need to talk." Jack told him, but just as a man walked into the bathroom, he turned to the man and shouted. "USE THE LADIES’ ROOM!" Once the man had walked out of the bathroom, Jack turned to Will, asking. "You respect my judgment, Will? Mm-hmm."

Will briefly paused before he answered. "Yes."

Jack looked pleased as he said. "Good, because we will stand a better chance of catching this guy with you in the saddle."

"Yeah, I’m in the saddle." Will said. "I’m just, um, confused which direction I’m pointing. I don’t know this kind of psychopath. I’ve never read about him. I don’t even know if he’s a psychopath. He’s not insensitive. He’s not shallow."

"You know something about him," Jack commented. "Otherwise, you wouldn’t have said, 'This is an apology'. What is he apologizing for?"

Will stated. "He couldn’t honor her. He feels bad."

"Well, feeling bad defeats the purpose of being a psychopath, doesn’t it?" Jack stated.

"Yes! It does." Will said, 

Jack asked, rising his voice just a little. "Then what kind of crazy is he?!"

Will explained. "He couldn’t show her he loved her, so he put her corpse back where he killed it. Whatever crazy that is."

"You think he loves these girls?" Jack questioned him.

"He loves one of them." Will answered him. "A-And, yes, I think by association he has some form of love for the others."

"There was no semen, there was no saliva." Jack stated. "Elise Nichols died a virgin. She stayed that way."

"That’s not how he’s loving them." Will told him. "He wouldn’t disrespect them that way! He doesn’t want these girls to suffer. He kills them quickly and to his thinking, with mercy."

Jack commented. "Sensitive psychopath. Risked getting caught so he could tuck Elise Nichols back into bed."

Will said. "He has to take the next girl soon ’cause he knows he’s gonna get caught. One way or the other."

Clarice poked her head in the doorway of the men's restroom. "Hey, are you gentlemen aware that there's a man using the women's restroom?"

Will looked at Jack as the Agent sighed, rubbing the middle of his forehead, and Clarice looked at Jack as well, her expression a one of puzzlement. She titled her head to the side as Jack stormed out of the bathroom, to order to get the man out of the ladies room before he got arrested for indecent exposure. 

Clarice watched Jack leave before she turned to Will and asked. "Should I ask?"

Will smiled at her as he gently tapped her chin with his knuckles. "Just that Agent Crawford wanted to speak to me alone and didn't want anyone in the men's room with us."

"So he told that poor man to use the ladies room." Clarice stated, placing her hands on her waist. "I thought he was going to faint on me when I walked into the ladies room and saw him there."

Will slipped his arm around her shoulders as she slipped her arm around his waist. "Come on, we got papers to grade and sort out."

 

After helping Will grade papers and sort them out as well, Clarice was called down to the lab by Beverly, who wanted to show her how to check clothing for evidence. She practically ran down to the lab, almost knocking poor Jimmy and Brian down in her haste.

Beverly was wiping Elise Nichols' dress for any evidence with Clarice sitting in a chair, twirling around in the seat. "So when did you and Will met?"

"In the beginning of the school year," Clarice answered, stopping in the middle of her twirl. "And later on, he asked me to be his assist and protege."

"Really?" Beverly asked. "Did he ask because you can empathize with both killer and victim?"

Clarice looked at her. "Yeah, that's it as well."

Beverly nodded her head. "He's the perfect choice for you than, Clarice. I know he can help you with your empathy gift."

"More like a curse." Clarice said, as she leaned over the table to watch Beverly wipe the front of the nightgown.

"But you are attracted to him." Beverly commented and had to swallow a laugh when Clarice almost fallen out of her chair. At the young woman's bewilderment, Beverly explained. "Your expression change when anyone mentions Will's name. Your cheeks flush and your eyes glow, and you break out into this vibrant smile."

Clarice stared at Beverly before she asked. "So if it was that noticeable why hasn't Professor Graham noticed it?"

Beverly gave her a pointed look as if she was saying 'Really?'. "Because he's a man and men are pretty decent when it comes to such things."

They both heard something hitting the table and they looked down and saw a metal piece on the surface of the table. Clarice looked at Beverly as the Asian woman started to smile and grab a set of tweezers. 

Beverly picked it up, smiling fully now. "I got you."

 

**Elsewhere.**

Jack was walking side by side at the FBI academy with Doctor Alana Bloom, outside, as professors and students walking passed them or in front of them.

Jack said to her. "Graham likes you. Doesn’t think you’ll run any mind games on him."

Alana told. "I don’t. I’m as honest with him as I’d be with a patient."

"You’ve been observing him while you’ve been guest lecturing here at the academy, yes?" Jack asked her, looking at her.

"I’ve never been in a room alone with Will." Alana told him honestly.

Jack asked. "Why not?"

"Because I want to be his friend, and I am." Alana answered him.

"Ah, it seems a shame not to take advantage and academically speaking." Jack said.

"You already asked me to do a study on him, Jack." Alana said, stopping which made Jack stop as well. "I said no. And anything scholarly on Will Graham would have to be published posthumously." 

"So, you’ve never been alone with him because you have a professional curiosity about him." Jack stated.

Alana asked. "Normally I wouldn’t even broach this, but what do you think one of Will’s strongest drives is?"

Jack answered without even thinking about it. "Fear."

Alana hummed her approval. "Mm-hmm."

"Will Graham deals with huge amounts of fear." Jack said to her. "It comes with his imagination."

"It’s the price of imagination." Alana told him.

"Alana, I wouldn’t put him out there if I didn’t think I could cover him." Jack reassured her. "All right, if I didn’t think I could cover him 80%."

Alana told him. "I wouldn’t put him out there."

"He’s out there. I need him out there." Jack said. "Should he get too close, I need you to make sure he’s not out there alone." Than he remembered Clarice and her having the same talents as Will. "What about Clarice Starling."

"Ah, Ms. Clarice Starling." Alana said with a mirthless laugh. "She and I have an understanding. I don't try to tell her how to use her empathy and who should teach her how to use it and she doesn't make my teaching here a living hell."

Jack asked with an raised brow. "When did this happened?"

Alana sighed. "When I told her that Will shouldn't be teaching her how to use her empathy when he can't seem to get stable after using them."

"I have a feeling that didn't go over so well with her." Jack commented. "From what I've heard, she's got quite a temper and sharp tongue on her."

"Yes, and I got the first hand of it." Alana told him. "She told me to mind my own business and that Will was the best choice to teach her how to use her empathy."

Jack frowned. "That doesn't sound like she had unleashed her temper and tongue on you."

"That was the clean verison of it." Alana smiled, than she became serious. "Promise me something, Jack. Don’t let him get too close."

"He won’t …" Jack promised her. "Get too close."

 

**Coroner/Lab.**

Clarice stood next to Will as they all stood around the body of Elise Nichols on the examination table. She was standing pretty close to Will, so that their arms were touching. Beverly had to bite back a smile as she noticed that Will had unconsciously moved closer to Clarice, it was pretty clear that Will was attracted to the fiery yet gentle red-headed and he seek out her presence whenever the young woman was around.

Beverly had damn determine to get Clarice Starling and Will Graham together as a couple, now she just needed help from Jimmy and force Brian to help out as well.

"OK. Tried her skin for prints of course nothing." Jimmy said. "We did get a hand spread off her neck."

Beverly asked. "Report say anything about nails?"

"Fingernails were smudged when we took the scrapings." Brian said, shaking his head. "The scrapings were from her own palms when she scratched them. She never scratched him."

Clarice frowned at that. "Than was she tied up?"

Will looked down at her, whispering near her ear. "There wasn't any rope scraping on her wrists."

"Piece of metal is all we got." Beverly sighed.

Will spoke up, causing the three to look at him. "We should be looking at plumbers, steamfitters, tool workers."

"Other injuries were probably but not conclusively post-mortem." Brian commented, making Clarice think that he was purposely ignoring Will. "So not gored."

"She has lots of piercings that look like they were caused by deer antlers." Beverly corrected him. "I didn’t say the deer was responsible for putting them there."

Will grimaced as he said, after it came to him. "She was mounted on them. Like hooks. She may have been bled."

Clarice looked at him, frowning. "That's making it sound like he's just seen these girls as a piece of meat instead of human beings."

"Her liver was removed." Brian commented, looking at Jimmy and Beverly, and Clarice grimaced as she grabbed onto Will's arms.

"See that?" Jimmy said, causing Clarice to look over and into the body. "He took it out, and then – yep, he put it back in."

Brian said. "Huh."

Jimmy asked. "Why would he cut it out if he’s just gonna sew it back in again?"

Will asked as Clarice grimaced and buried her face into his chest. "Something wrong with the meat?"

Brian checked and looked at them in shock. "She has liver cancer."

Will stated as he wrap his arm around Clarice's shoulder. "He’s, um he’s eating them."

Clarice mumbled into his chest. "And now I'm officially off meat after this case."

 

**687 Bayshore Avenue - Suite 200, Baltimore.**

Franklin Froideveaux said as he sniffled and held out his hand towards his psychiatrist. "Please… "

Doctor Hannibal Lecter fought back the urge to grimace in distaste at the man's disgusting display of depression as he looked at his hand for a while until he finally reached over towards his table and grabbed the box of tissues, and hand it out to him.

"Thank you. I hate being this neurotic." Franklin took some tissues and wiped his nose.

Hannibal watched him as Franklin wiped away the mucus and tears off. He had two patients that he couldn't stand, Franklin Froideveaux and Maria González. While he can tolerate Franklin to a point that he could control himself and his temper, Maria González, on the other hand, is a very vain woman who thinks she's above everyone, including her own son, and has been trying to get their relationship pass patient and psychiatrist to something more but Hannibal had been very adamant when it came to turn out the woman's obvious inappropriate gestures and words.

Hannibal met her son, when he had came to pick up her mother one day when she had refuse to leave his office after her session was over, and the cannibal had actually found the young man to be pleasant. Even though the young man hated his mother due to her vain personality, Gabriel González still showed his mother the utmost respect despite her not being deserving of it. It was obvious why Maria hated her son, her son was a homosexual and due to his looks and pleasant personality, it was quite clear that many men would seek out her son instead of her. 

"If you weren’t neurotic, Franklin, you would be something much worse." Hannibal told him, he watched as Franklin set down the soiled tissue on the glass surface of the table next to the chair that he was sitting on.

Our brain is designed to experience anxiety in short bursts, not the prolonged duress yours has seemed to enjoy." Hannibal pulled himself out of his thoughts as he addressed his patient, sitting forward. "That’s why you feel as though a lion were on the verge of devouring you. Franklin…"

Franklin looked at him, sobbing. "Yes."

Hannibal told him as he held the tone of reassuring. "You have to convince yourself the lion is not in the room. When it is, I assure you, you will know."

Hannibal opened the door for Franklin once the man's session was done and was surprised to see a man sitting in a chair in the private exit for his patients. He watched him as he stood up and walked towards them.

"Dr. Lecter." The man said as he took Franklin's hands, surprising the fat man. "I’m, uh, Special Ag–"

Hannibal interrupted, causing both men to look at him. "I hate to be discourteous, but this is a private exit for my patients."

"Oh, Dr. Lecter. Sorry." The man said, looking embarrassed. "Um, I’m, uh, Special Agent Jack Crawford, FBI. May I come in?"

"You may wait in the waiting room." Hannibal told him as he addressed his patient. "Franklin, I’ll see you next week."

Franklin said as he started to walk away. "Yes."

Hannibal said, stopping Franklin from leaving. "Unless, of course, this is about him."

Jack looked at Franklin before shaking his head. "No, this is all about you."

Jack sat in the waiting room a few minutes later, waiting Doctor Lecter to let him into his office. The door opened and Jack looked over to see the doctor standing in the doorway.

Hannibal said as he took a step back to allow Jack to walk into his office. "Please, come in." He closed the door after Jack and asked him. "So, may I ask how this is all about me?"

Jack told him, causing Hannibal to smile a little. "You can ask, but I may have to ask you a few questions first." Jack turned and looked at him, asking. "You expecting another patient?"

Hannibal shook his head. "We’re all alone."

"Oh, good." Jack said as Hannibal walked towards him. "No secretary?"

"Was predispositioned to romantic whims." Hannibal said as he and Jack walked side by side. "Followed her heart to the United Kingdom. Sad to see her go."

Jack noticed beautiful drawn portraits on a table. "Wow. Are these yours, Doctor?"

"Among the first." Hannibal said as he tapped on one drawing. "My boarding school in Paris when I was a boy."

Jack praised as he continued to examine the portraits. "The amount of detail is incredible."

Hannibal said to him as he picked up a pencil and scalpel. "I learned very early a scalpel cuts better points than a pencil sharpener."

"Well, now I understand why your drawings earned you an internship at Johns Hopkins." Jack said to him before he turned and walked away.

Hannibal was quiet as he thought to himself, looking at the scalpel in his hands.  _Did my extra activities became known to this man?_

"I’m beginning to suspect you’re investigating me, – Agent Crawford." Hannibal said as he set down his scalpel and pencil and turned to walk towards Jack.

Jack chuckled as he reassured the doctor before him. "No, no. No, you were referred to me by Alana Bloom in the psychology department Georgetown."

"Most psychology departments are filled with personality deficients." Hannibal told him as he gave a faint smile at the agent. "Dr. Bloom would be the exception."

"Yes, she would. Yes, she would." Jack said in agreement before he went on. "Well, she told me that you mentored her during her residency at Johns Hopkins."

Hannibal told him. "I learned as much from her as she did from me."

Jack stated as he tired to remember the title of the paper that Alana had showed him. "Yes, but she also showed me, uh, your paper. “Evolutionary” uh, “Evolutionary Origins of Social Exclusion”?"

Hannibal barely smiled once again as he slowly inclined his head towards him. "Yes."

Jack praised. "Very interesting. Very interesting. Even for a layman."

Hannibal slightly showed his amused as he asked. "A layman?"

Jack nodded his head. "Yeah."

Hannibal continued on, trying to figure out why Agent Crawford would referred to himself as a layman. "So many learned fellows going about in the halls of Behavioral Science – at the FBI, and you consider yourself a layman."

Jack smiled as he said. "I do when I’m in your company, doctor." When Hannibal smiled back at him and inclined his head in acceptance, Jack went on. "Um, I need you to help me with a psychological profile."

Hannibal asked him, feeling his curiosity and interest slightly peaked. "And what is the name of the person I am doing a psychological profile now?"

"Oh, no. You are not doing a psychological profile on one person." Jack corrected him, causing Hannibal to cock his head at him in question. "You're doing it on two people. Will Graham and Clarice Starling."

Hannibal asked, curious in the two people he is too do a psychological profile on. "Can you tell me about them? So I'm not going in blind when I speak to them."

"Well, Will Graham is a Professor at the FBI academy, and he has this ability to empathize with serial killers and mentally re-create their crimes with vivid detail." Jack told him. "But Alana thinks that putting him out in the field will make him snap."

Hannibal's interest in Will Graham was fully peaked as he asked. "And Ms. Starling?"

"Clarice Starling has the same talent as Will Graham." Jack told him. "But hers also allows her to empathize with the victims and mentally re-create the crime done on them in vivid detail." He turned and walked away, looking at Hannibal's books. "She's twenty-years-old and Will Graham is mentoring her."

His interest towards Clarice Starling was fully peaked as well as Hannibal commented. "You're allowing her on the field."

"She requested by Will Graham." Jack told him.

"Really? Did he tell you why?" Hannibal asked, curious as to why a man like Will Graham would request that his protege and a trainee join him out in the field. 

Jack shake his head. "When I asked him, Will would change the subject and when I ask her, Clarice would say he probably enjoys her company."

"You think they're hiding something." Hannibal stated.

"I don't know." Jack told him.

Hannibal went quiet as he thought over Agent Crawford's request. He would never have believed that he would met two people who fascinated him so much, but Hannibal found him very fascinated by Will Graham and his protege, Clarice Starling. Well, more like their similar yet dissimilar talents fascinate him, and Hannibal wondered if he could model them into become just like him, to become his protege, the both of them.

Hannibal smiled as he accepted Jack's request and the thought of them being his proteges. "I'll do the psychological profile on them."

 

**The Next Day.**

Clarice drove up onto Will's driveway and stepped out of her Chevrolet Chevelle SS, walking towards the porch. She leapt over the stairs and walked across the porch, knocking on the door when she opened up the screen door. 

Clarice heard the dogs barking but heard nothing of Will coming to open the door. She sighed and pulled out her spare key, not surprised that Will hadn't woken up with all that barking. Clarice slipped her key into the keyhole and turned it, hearing the lock release and Clarice opened the door, taking out her key. Clarice recognized all of them expect for one, she looked down at him and stroked his head as the other dogs danced around her, leaping on her to try to give her kisses. 

Clarice gave all the dogs loves and hugs, as she  set her bag down on the counter and she made her way towards Will's bedroom. She pushed open the door to see him still in bed and asleep, only he was covered in sweat and with a towel draped over him and one under him. She cocked her head at the sight as she realized that he must have had a nightmare about the case and he had waken up in a cold sweat. 

Clarice walked over to him, jumped onto the bed and stood with him between her legs, placing her hands on her hips. "Will, get up this minute or I'm going to drop on you."

Will muttered something under his breath that sounded like he's telling her to go away, and Clarice smirked before she dropped on him, sitting comfortable on his stomach which jolted Will wake and alert. She placed her hands on his chest as she smiled down at him, feeling pleased with herself as she watched a surprised look appear on his face.

Will sighed as he rubbed his eyes. "I should have known you would follow through with your threats."

Clarice leaned over him and brought her face close to his. "I don't make threats, Will, I make promises."

"Why are you here?" Will asked her.

"Because Agent Crawford wants us both in his office." Clarice told him.

Will looked at her with a peeved expression. "And why didn't Jack just call me to tell me this?"

Clarice smirked down at him before she raised up and leaned over to the side, reaching before his phone the nightstand by his bed, all the while keeping him between her legs, which Will didn't know if he should find how her thigh muscles flex underneath her leggings to be sexy as hell or unnerving as she is his student and protege.

She came back to her original position, which was sitting on his stomach, and held out his phone. "Jack did try calling you, Will, but you didn't answer."

He looked at the screen and saw that her words were true, he has seven missed calls and they were all from Jack. "Alright, did he tell you why he wanted us in his office."

"About the case, obviously, and to met the extra help he brought onto the case." Clarice told him as she removed herself from his stomach to allow him to set up. 

"Who is it?" Will asked her as he climbed out of his bed.

"Some guy." Clarice told him as he walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him to get ready. "He hadn't told me his name."

Will asked her. "Can you drive me? I don't fell like I should be driving."

"Sure." Clarice told him. "But as long as you don't bitch about my driving."

 

**Sometime Later.**

Will said to her as he climbed out of her car when she had parked in the parking lot of the FBI academy. "I know I said I wouldn't bitch about your driving but did you had to pull that fast and furious stunt back there?"

Clarice grinned devilishly at him. "Hey, I had to prove a point."

"And what point would that be?" Will asked her as they walked up the stairs.

"That I'm a better drive and they're going to lose no matter what." Clarice confidently told him as Will opened the door for her and she walked in.

Will groaned as he followed her in. "You're going to get you or someone killed. And that someone could be me."

Clarice looked at him with an arched look. "Are you still bitching back there, Professor?"

Will glared at her but fell silent as he and Clarice walked towards Jack's office. His thoughts going to the case and the girls, while Clarice's thoughts went to the man that Agent Crawford had brought in to help. Clarice wondered what kind of man he was as she and Will stepped into the office and saw Agent Crawford talking to a tall, lean, yet imposing silhouette of a man, his features impossible to spot due to his back facing them.

Clarice's eyes dropped to his ass and had to bite back a wolf whistle in womanly appreciation.  _Not a lot of men who can make a pair of dress slacks work but this man was certainly built for it._

Jack spotted them. "Ah, you two are finally here."

Will snorted as he looked over at Clarice who looked away from the man's gorgeous ass. "Yeah, no thanks to Clarice's reckless driving."

Clarice rolled her eyes. "My driving isn't reckless."

"Tell that to the two heart attacks I had on the way here." Will retorted.

"Strange, I thought having heart attacks would make one silent," Clarice retorted back.

Jack smiled at Clarice. "Strange to see you so sassy this early in the morning."

Clarice smiled back at him. "I'm always sassy, ask Professor Graham or Beverly."

"Agent Crawford, aren't you going to introduce us?" asked a very sexy deep, velvety, yet raspy voice, a Lithuanian accent, from her side and Clarice looked over and felt her mouth dropping open and her eyes widen at the sight of the man by her side, having to look up of course due to his six foot in height, towering over her five foot and six inch frame.

His face was beautiful in a cold, symmetrical, strange and compelling way, hinting at northern origins. His features seemed to be chiseled in alabaster, lean, and regal and precise, betraying wisdom and knife-sharp intelligence. He has high, pronounced cheekbones and the straight, narrow nose emanated refinement and quiet determination. his mouth, enhanced by the pointed chin, seemed even more compelling, because of its sensuous, yet somehow cruel lips, that reveal white, even teeth. The skin, although holding a charming olive hue, held some rough lines of a skin brushed by the cold winds of the unforgiving Baltic Sea.

He has sandy brown, thick hair was neatly combed to enhance the wide forehead, complimented by prominent arcades that cast the fascinating, deep set hazel eyes into a veil of obscurity. The man's body reflected the same enduring beauty of the unique breed that were the northern men, with their tall, lean, yet strong and muscular bodies, wide in shoulders, slim in waist and long in limbs, formidable creatures that competed with the harshness of their motherland, graceful in their native, muted savagery.

And Clarice would know since she had traveling into those countries with her adopted French mother and saw the men and boys there, leaving her with a fondness for the north, especially the men of Lithuania. 

Jack's words drew Clarice from admiring the man by her. "Ah, yes. This is Will Graham and Clarice Starling. Will, Clarice, this is...."

"Doctor Hannibal Lecter." The man finished, holding out his hand to Will.

 _Wait? Doctor Hannibal Lecter? As in Maria's psychiatrist?_ Clarice thought, dazed.  _I know Gabriel wants me to find a man like Ian, who is a sophisticated, older and handsome man with impeccable manners and charms, but this guy's nothing like Ian! If anything he's seems to be above Ian!_

Clarice almost jumped out of her skin when she saw that Doctor Lecter's hand had suddenly appeared in front of her, and she looked up to see that he had a faintly smug smirk on his face as if he had wanted to startle her. She felt a warm blush formed on her cheeks and down her throat as she took his winder one in her smooth hand. Clarice took this time to examine his hand. 

He has sensible and steady hand of an artist, and it was warmer, and its firm grip seemed to refrain potent strength, as though the muscles that helped the finger to coil were alert, yet immobile under the skin. They were masculine hands, attractive hands, and Clarice didn't know that she even have a hand fetish until she felt his fingers on hers and his palm against hers. 

Clarice cleared her throat as she said. "I've heard of you."

"Oh? From whom?" Hannibal asked her.

"From Gabriel González." Clarice told him, crossing her arms under her breasts, unconsciously pushing her breasts together and up. "You're treating his mother."

Hannibal smiled down at her. "So you know Mrs. González."

"Not on a personal level." Clarice said honestly. "I avoid that woman like plague. Gabriel is my best friend and my roommate."

Hannibal caught the scent of magnolia, clementine, gardenia, sandalwood and honey, and realized that it was coming from Clarice Starling as she walked passed him. He turned around to watch her, to examine her more closely. 

Clarice has an exquisite, delicate, oval-shaped face with a definitive jaw line and accentuated cheekbones. She was an exceptional beautiful young woman of twenty years of age, and that beautiful southern accented voice, a soft feminine lilting honey magnolia one. She has beautifully flawless and smooth porcelain, but he could see faint freckles on her cheekbones. Clarice has a tear-shaped mole under her right eye.

The eyes were disturbing, with an exotic slant. Such vibrant amber eyes in that fair face, golden-red, like stone. The lips were soft and full and the nose straight and slender. A thick fringe of sooty lashes framed those extraordinary eyes, while dark brows arched gently above them. Her hair was a vibrant shade of light brown, with honey blond highlights in the tendrils of brown, in loose little waves surrounding her face, giving her fair skin a glow like polished porcelain.

Clarice has an lithe, firm build yet didn't lack feminine curves, she has wide yet slender shoulders, and ample yet firm and soft breasts, full hips, and thighs; slim waist, and long, shapely legs. She also has a well-defined butt and long, tapering legs with toned muscles.

But what drew Hannibal in most to Ms. Clarice Starling was the hint of vulnerability, frailness that radiated off of her, as if something had happened to her in the past and it still lingers even though she has far passed into adulthood, though he enjoyed her scent the most. 

Clarice sat down next to Will, on his other side, leaving the other chair empty. Hannibal walked behind her, looking down at her from the corner of his eye as he continued to walk to the board. He was amazed by such a beautiful young woman like Clarice Starling would ever want to work for the FBI, especially not with her looks and body shape. She was probably joining the FBI because one or both of her parents were law enforcement. Hannibal wondered why Clarice was brought into this case.

"I must say that I was surprised when I learned that a trainee was involved with this case," Hannibal looked down at her. "But I didn't realize how young you were, Ms. Starling." 

Clarice looked at Hannibal. "Is there a problem with my age, Doctor Lecter?"

"No, my dear." Hannibal told her, smile reassuring down at her. "I'm actually impressed that you are in the field despite being so young." 

"Really?" Clarice asked with a disbelief expression on her face.

Hannibal looked down at her. "You don't seem to believe that my feelings are genuine, Ms. Starling."

Clarice smiled sheepishly at him. "Sorry, I've gotten use to people besides Beverly, Jimmy, Brian, Agent Crawford and Professor Graham believing that I won't make it as a FBI Agent due to my young age."

"Are you the youngest in your grade, Ms. Starling?" Hannibal asked her.

"Yes, I am." Clarice told her, looking away from him and opening up her notebook, Hannibal took that as the end of the topic and looked at the board before him. Than she added. "I'm called Baby."

Will smiled. "A reference to Dirty Dancing."

Hannibal asked, directing his attention towards Jack. "Tell me, then, how many confessions?"

"Twelve dozen, the last time I checked. None of them had any details until this morning." Jack said as he and Hannibal walked to their seats, sitting down. "And then they all had details. Some genius in Duluth PD took a photograph of Elise Nichols’ body with his cell phone, shared it with his friends, and then Freddy Lounds posted it on Tattlecrime.com."

Clarice's eyes narrowed in annoyance as she mumbled. "Ah, my mortal enemy, Freddy Lounds, we meet again."

Will muttered. "Tasteless."

Hannibal asked him. "Do you have trouble with taste?"

Will comment, avoiding his eyes. "My thoughts are often not tasty."

"Nor mine." Hannibal said. "No effective barriers."

Clarice looked at Will, rising her brow. "I didn't know your thoughts weren't often tasty. Care to explain, Professor Graham?"

"Not to you, my dear, not to you." Will told her before looking at Hannibal. "And I build forts."

"Associations come quickly." Hannibal said.

"So do forts." Will stated.

Clarice looked at him. "I didn't know you built a fort around you."

"That's because you ignored it and burst right through it." Will told her, turning his head to smile at her, making eye contact with him, which Hannibal noticed.

Clarice smiled at Will. "Maybe you shouldn't try build a fort than, Professor Graham, since they are so easily broken."

Will chuckled. "Only when they are in your capable hands, Trainee Starling."

Hannibal asked him, drawing his attention back to him. "Not fond of eye contact, are you?"

Will shifted uncomfortable in his seat. "Eyes are distracting you see too much, you don’t see enough." He continued as he looked towards Hannibal but not making eye contact with him. "And-And it’s hard to focus when you’re thinking, um, “Oh, those whites are really white”, or, “He must have hepatitis”, or, “Oh, is that a burst “vein?” So, yeah, I try to avoid eyes whenever possible." 

Clarice looked at Will. "Should I start wearing glasses when I'm around you?"

"Don't sass me, young lady." Will told her. "I won't tolerate."

"You tolerate a lot of my sass before, so what's stopping it now?" Clarice asked him, smiling at him much like a cat.

Will only shook his head as he looked at FBI Agent. "Jack?"

Jack asked. "Yes?"

Hannibal spoke up. "I imagine what you see and learn touches everything else in your mind. Your values and decency are present yet shocked at your associations, appalled at your dreams. No forts in the bone arena of your skull for things you love."

Clarice muttered as Will looked at Hannibal in shock. "uh-oh..."

"Whose profile are you working on?" Will asked him, than he looked at Jack. "Whose profile is he working on?"

Hannibal said before Jack could say anything. "I’m sorry, Will. Observing is what we do. I can’t shut mine off any more than you can shut yours off."

Clarice got out of her chair and slowly made her way towards the door. "I think I'm going to leave now before shit hits the fan, and right now, I'm pretty sure that's going to happen." Clarice hurried towards the door and opened it, she ran out of there as if the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels. 

"Please, don’t psychoanalyze me." Will said, looking at Jack. "You won’t like me when I’m psychoanalyzed."

Jack cleared his throat. "Will."

Will stood up, gathering his things up. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go give a lecture on psychoanalyzing."

Jack waited until the door fully shut before he cautioned. "Maybe we shouldn’t poke them like that, Doctor. Perhaps a less, uh, direct approach."

Hannibal leaned forward as he said. "What he has is pure empathy. He can assume your point of view, or mine, and maybe some other points of view that scare him. It’s an uncomfortable gift, Jack." 

Jack single reply was. "Hum."

"Perception’s a tool that’s pointed on both ends." Hannibal said as he looked towards the board. "This cannibal you have him getting to know I think I can help good Will see his face."

Jack looked at him, asking. "And would you also extend this help towards Trainee Starling?"

"Of course." Hannibal told him, smiling at the man. "Such as she is his protege and I find myself wondering if she'll see the same thing he does."

"Yes, so do I." Jack honestly told him.

 

Will stormed down the hallway, angry at Jack for bringing a psychiatrist to do an psychoanalyze on him. As the upset Professor rounded a corner, he didn't see Clarice leaning against the wall until she had spoke and Will looked at her.

"So apparently, the good doctor was referred to Agent Crawford by Doctor Alana Bloom." Clarice snapping, glowering at Will. "If I wanted to be psychoanalyze, I'll go over to Doctor Sinclair's place and get him do a psychoanalyze on me."

Will smiled down at her as she came to stand by him. "I thought you two couldn't be in the same room because he has a habit of using his talents as a psychiatrist on you."

Clarice shrugged her shoulders as she slipped her arm through his and held onto it as they both started walking again. "You are correct, Will, but I've find myself in his company simply because he is dating Gabriel, who is my roommate still."

"So, how did you know that it was Alana that referred Doctor Lecter to Jack?" Will asked her, looking down at the lovely brunette by his side.

"A classmate told me that he had overheard Doctor Bloom referring Doctor Lecter to Agent Crawford in order to do a profile on us." Clarice said, and saw that Will had wince at her words. "Why I know, I wince when I heard 'us' and 'profile' in the same sentence as well."

Will rubbed his face with his free hand as he groaned. "I love it how everyone thinks we're so unstable."

Clarice leaned her head against his shoulder as she smiled. "There's nothing wrong with being unstable, it's what makes us so interesting."

"Yeah, among doctors and psychiatrists." Will said with a laugh. "We're a hit at parties for them."

"Everyone's unstable, Will." Clarice told him. "Even them, though they do not want to admit it to themselves or outloud."

Will was silent before he asked. "What do you think of Doctor Lecter?"

Clarice looked at Will before looking away. "I honestly don't know what to think of him, I barely even spoken to the man but I hardly don't like him because of this stupid stunt."

"Yes, but please, try not to hunt Alana down and kick her ass," Will cautioned Clarice. "I'm sure she had a good reason to do this."

"Yeah right, she didn't even want you to teach me how to use my empathy." Clarice snorted. "So I highly doubt that she had a good reason for doing it, Will."

Will only sighed and dropped the topic, knowing full well that he couldn't possibly get Clarice and Alana to get along when the young woman clearly didn't like the woman for interfering with Will's teaching of Clarice. And Will learned that he couldn't possibly get Clarice to speak to Alana or play nice with the woman, it's a impossible task to do since Clarice had a stubborn streak a mile long and wide. 

 

Hannibal walked through the empty halls of the academy, on his way out, when he caught the scent of magnolia, clementine, gardenia, sandalwood and honey, and looked to his right to see Clarice standing amongst some of the trainees, talking to them as she held a piece of paper in her hands, explaining something to them. She looked at one of the male trainees and laughed at something he said, as she hit him lightly on his shoulder. 

Hannibal watched one of the female trainees touched Clarice's hair, saying something to the brunette, making her ran her fingers through her hair. She looked at the woman and smiled at her. The doctor watched the exchange perfectly calm and collected until he saw another male trainee taking some of her hair and rising it to his nose, taking in her hair scent. He felt possessive rage and jealousy reared itself inside, despite his calm and collected facade on the outside, at the very sight of the young man touching her and taking in her scent.

Hannibal shook himself, dashing away the feeling, before he started making his way towards Clarice and the boys. One of the female trainees spotted him coming towards them and touched Clarice's shoulder, gesturing towards him once she had the brunette's attention. Clarice looked towards him and the smile slightly faded before it was back on her face, she looked towards the other trainees and waved them away, walking towards him.

Clarice smiled at him. "Hello, Doctor Lecter. What are you doing here?"

Hannibal smiled down at her, noticing that her smile looked more like a grimace. "I was on my way out when I saw you." His eyes moved to the departing trainees. "I guessing those were your fellow classmates."

"Yeah." Clarice said as she started to stroke part of her hair that the male trainee had scented. "I was explaining what Professor Graham had wanted done on the paper to them."

"Are you also his assistant, Agent Starling?" Hannibal asked her, looking down at her. 

 Clarice looked at him. "Yeah, but it was of my choice, not his. I practically bent his arm backwards."

Hannibal smiled. "You are very forceful young woman, Agent Starling."

Clarice sighed, stopping and looking at him. "Listen, 

 

**The Next Morning.**

Clarice found herself in the middle of a open field, with crows surrounding them, and she was staring at the body of a girl who lie impaled on top of the antlers of a stag. She covered her mouth as she felt her breakfast coming up to say hello, surprised by her sick feeling. Clarice didn't feel sick when she saw Elise Nichols but now seeing this, she felt sick to her stomach and fighting the urge to throw up. But Clarice knew why she felt like this, this wasn't the same as Elise Nichols.

She grabbed onto Will's jacket with her free hand. "This is different from the others."

Will looked down at her. "What are you seeing, Clarice."

"The lack of love." Clarice said, without hesitating. "I don't see the fatherly love that I'd seen with Elise Nichols."

"So, you saw it, too." Will said, looking at her with approval. "Did your empathy tell you that?"

Clarice nodded her head. "Yeah."

Jack walked over to them. "Stag head was reported stolen last night, about a mile from here."

Will asked him. "Just the head?"

"I think it would be hard to take the rest of it without being seen, Professor Graham." Clarice commented, keeping her hand over her mouth.

"Minneapolis Homicide’s already made a statement." Jack sighed as he said. "They’re calling him the Minnesota Shrike."

Will frowned. "Like the bird?"

"Shrike’s a perching bird. Impales mice and lizards on thorny branches and barbed wire." Jimmy explained to Will. "Rips their organs right out of their bodies, puts them in a little birdie pantry, and eats them later."

Clarice said gagged. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Jimmy gave her a concern look. "You are fine over there, Baby?"

"Yeah, never better." Clarice commented, flashing him the thumbs up. 

"Because it's not the Minnesota Shrike, this is not Elise's killer." Clarice told him, grimacing again.

Jack commented as he looked at the display. "I can’t tell whether it’s sloppy – or shrewd."

Clarice addressed Jack as she rested her forehead against Will's bicep. "I don't see sloppy or shrewd. I see calculating and cruel."

"He wanted her found this way. It’s… it’s petulant." Will explained. "I almost feel like he’s mocking her. Or he’s mocking us."

Jack asked, looking at Will. "Where did all his love go?"

Will told him. "Whoever tucked Elise Nichols into bed didn’t paint this picture."

Clarice agreed with Will. "I second the notion. This isn't our killer, this is someone else. And I don't like him."

"He took her lungs." Brian commented, than he grimaced. "I’m pretty sure she was alive when he cut ’em out."

"Yep, my breakfast is coming up to say hello." Clarice said as she turned and hurried away, Jimmy and Beverly hurrying after her to help.

"Our cannibal loves women. He doesn’t want to destroy them." Will said. "He wants to consume them, to keep some part of them inside. This girl’s killer thought that she was a pig."

Jack asked. "You think this was a copycat?"

"The cannibal who killed Elise Nichols had a place to do it and no interest in in field kabuki. So, he has a house, or two, or a-a cabin something with an antler room. He has a daughter. The same age as the other girls. Same-same hair color, same eye color, same height, same weight." Will said as he turned and walked after Jimmy and Beverly, to check on Clarice. "She’s an only child. She’s leaving home. He can’t stand the thought of losing her. She’s his golden ticket."

Jack asked him, causing Will to stop and look back at him. "What about the copycat?"

"You know, an intelligent psychopath, particularly a sadist, is very hard to catch. There’s no traceable motive, there’ll be no patterns." Will told him as he started to walk towards where Clarice was heaving up her breakfast. "He may never kill this way again. Have Doctor Lecter draw up a psychological profile. You seemed very impressed with his opinion."

Jack grimaced at that as he watched Will hurried over to where Clarice was being reintroduced to her breakfast. Obviously Will didn't like Doctor Lecter, and he didn't know if Clarice liked him or not, as she had retreated from his office.

A little afterward, Clarice was now lying in the passenger seat of her car with the seat all the way tipped back, a wet cloth was lying across her eyes. She sighed, hearing footsteps coming towards her.

"I'm fine, Will." Clarice said, not bothering to check to see if she got it right.

"Since when did you refer to Will Graham by his first name, Trainee Starling?" said the amused voice of Jack Crawford, causing Clarice to shot up and looked at the older man with wide eyes and a flushed face.

Clarice blushed

 

Hannibal: Good morning, Will. May I come in?

Will: Where’s Crawford?

Hannibal: Deposed in court. The adventure will be yours and mine today. May I come in?

Hannibal: I’m very careful about what I put into my body, which means I end up preparing most meals myself. A little protein scramble to start the day. Some eggs, some sausage.

Will: Mm, it’s delicious. Thank you.

Hannibal: My pleasure.

Hannibal: I would apologize for my analytical ambush, but I know I will soon be apologizing again and you’ll tire of that eventually, so I have to consider using apologies sparingly.

Will: Just keep it professional.

Hannibal: Or we could socialize, like adults. God forbid we become friendly.

Will: I don’t find you that interesting.

Hannibal: You will.

Hannibal: Agent Crawford tells me you have a knack for the monsters.

Will: I don’t think the Shrike killed that girl in the field.

Hannibal: The devil is in the details. What didn’t your copycat do to the girl in the field? What gave it away?

Will: Everything. It’s like he had to show me a negative so that I could see the positive. That crime scene was practically gift-wrapped.

Hannibal: The mathematics of human behavior all those ugly variables. Some bad math with this Shrike fellow, huh? Are you reconstructing his fantasies?

Will: Heh.

Hannibal: What kind of problems? Does he have?

Will: Uh, he has a few.

Hannibal: You ever have any problems, Will?

Will: No.

Hannibal: Of course you don’t. You and I are just alike problem-free. Nothing about us to feel horrible about. You know, Will? I think Uncle Jack sees you as a fragile little teacup. The finest China, used for only special guests.

Will: (laughing) How do you see me?

Hannibal: The mongoose I want under the house when the snakes slither by. Finish your breakfast.

 

Will: What are you smiling at?

Hannibal: Peeking behind the curtain. I’m just curious how the FBI goes about its business when it’s not kicking in doors.

Will: You’re lucky we’re not doing house-to-house interviews. We found a little piece of metal in Elise Nichols’ clothes a shred from a pipe threader.

Hannibal: There must be hundreds of construction sites all over Minnesota.

Will: A certain kind of metal, certain kind of pipe, certain kind of pipe coating, so we’re checking all the construction sites that use that kind of pipe.

Hannibal: What are we looking for?

Will: At this stage, anything really. But mostly, anything peculiar.

 

Woman: Two fellas from the FBI. They goin’ through the drawers now. Mm-hmm. Puttin’ papers in file boxes. Yes, they are takin’ things. No. Well, they didn’t say– Yes, they can. What did you say your names were?

Will: Garret Jacob Hobbs?

Woman: He’s one of our pipe threaders. Those are all the resignation letters. Plumbers’ Union requires ’em whenever members finish a job. (whispering) I’ll call you back.

Will: Uh, does Mr. Hobbs have a daughter?

Woman: Might have.

Will: Eighteen or 19, wind-chafed, uh, plain but pretty. She’d have auburn hair, about this tall.

Woman: Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t keep company with these people.

Hannibal: What is it about Garret Jacob Hobbs you find so peculiar?

Will: He left a phone number, no address.

Hannibal: And therefore he has something to hide?

Will: The others all left addresses. Do you have an address for Mr. Hobbs?

 

Will: I got it.

 

Abigail: Hello? Just a second. Dad! It’s for you!

Mr. Hobbs: Who is this?

Abigail: Caller ID said it was blocked.

Mr. Hobbs: Hello?

Hannibal: Mr. Garret Jacob Hobbs?

Mr. Hobbs: Yeah.

Hannibal: You don’t know me and I suspect we’ll never meet. This is a courtesy call. Listen very carefully. Are you listening?

Mr. Hobbs: Yes.

Hannibal: They know.

 

Mrs. Hobbs: Ah ah!

Will: Garrett Jacob Hobbs! FBI! No, no, no.

Mr. Hobbs: See? See?

Will: No! No! No!

 

Alana: Biting in lesser assaults and bar fights, child abuse. Emergency room personnel may be very helpful that way. If they have any memories of bad bites, no matter who was bitten or h–

Jack: Where’s Graham?

Alana: You said he wouldn’t get too close.


End file.
